


Star Song

by claudia603



Category: Titanic (1997)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-11
Updated: 2010-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-08 20:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claudia603/pseuds/claudia603
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not really based on the 1997 movie, but rather on real people that were on the Titanic. The main character is fictitious, but she is based on a real person who willingly gave up her seat on a lifeboat so that the lifeboat would not sink with too many people on it.  The characters of Jock Hume and Harold Bride as well as other minor characters like the woman on the deck of the Carapathia are very real and I've tried to keep them as canon as possible. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star Song

Black, black was the sea, and the starlight brought towering crystal ice shapes into sight. An unforgiving seascape spread out as far as the eye could see, and the grand ship was the only thing that protected them, that kept them buoyant. The ship was longer than eight hundred feet and heavier than 85,000 tons, an unsinkable floating village. But in this icy world, human construction meant nothing. One mortal wound from nature trumped the hubris of Man.

_But surely we can't sink, not really._

Alice's heart bumped in a rapid, unpleasant rhythm. She listened to the nervous laughter around her.

"They've got us in this get-up for sport, that's all."

"The dinner was so rich they want us to move around to help digest it."

"It's just to see who's too drunk to handle the boats."

More laughter.

Alice was not sure this was a laughing matter. She caught too much worry in the eyes of the officers finagling with the lifeboats. This was serious. Dead serious. The air Alice breathed formed crystal puffs in front of her.

The strains of the band playing a cheerful rag in the first class lobby filtered down to the second class boat deck.

"Music to drown by," another fellow said. Everyone laughed in a jovial manner. A young man cupped his hands around a smoke.

* * *

"Someone has to get out." The officer's face was sad and regretful. "We can't let this boat down. It will sink. Come on, ladies. There are other boats."

He looked away at that last. He was lying. This lifeboat was either the last or one of the last. The other passengers in the boat clutched their hands together in frozen silence. A woman in an evening gown and nothing to keep her warm but a delicate lace shawl clutched two small children to her. An old woman with a wobbling chin fidgeted with her skirt. Three ladies spoke in a foreign language, Norwegian or Finnish, oblivious to what the officer was asking. Alice looked down at her hands.

"Come on, ladies," the officer pleaded. "Please don't make me choose."

"I'll go," Alice whispered. Her jaw was stiff. "Just promise…" She glanced at her little niece Eloise.

"No," Her sister Josephine said, clutching her hand. "I'll go."

"Don't be ridiculous. Think of Eloise." Alice stood. A widow with a long dead little girl was the right person to give up her seat. "I'll find another boat. And perhaps the ship won't sink, after all."

"Good girl," the officer said.

Josephine clutched Alice's hand in horror, trying to drag her back to her seat. Alice pulled out of her grip and stumbled toward the officer's hand. Everything tilted into slow motion.

The officer lifted her up and over the railing as if she weighed nothing. She caught a glimpse of bright stars spread across the sky. Her body felt numb and useless. The officer set her on her feet on the deck. She caught the strains of "Alexander's Ragtime" from somewhere on the deck. Things could not be too bad yet if the band was still playing a cheerful tune. Alice could picture sweet Jock Hume striking his strings with his bow with his affable smile, and it gave her the strength to turn away from the lifeboat.

"You did a brave thing, miss," the officer said in her ear, looking visibly relieved that he hadn't needed to make such a dreadful choice. "Go on, hurry to the starboard side. There may still be another boat left."

The lifeboat was lowered with a great jangling and whirring, and Alice's sister covered her mouth and started to weep.

"Where's Auntie going?" Eloise cried out.

"Don't worry," Alice called down to her in a cheerful voice. "I just remembered I promised the stars I would sing to them!"

Josephine turned away. Alice waved instead to Eloise. Eloise waved back up with a brave smile.

"Say hello to the stars for me!" she cried up.

"I will, darling, I will! Be brave!"

Alice turned away then and started to make her way up deck. The sound of Hartley's band grew louder. She saw the outlines of Hartley and Jock. They played as dashingly as they always did. Alice's smile trembled on her face. She made her way up to the upper deck, and she was surprised by how winded it made her.

The ship had begun to list.

A woman grabbed her. She spoke in a thick Irish brogue. "All the lifeboats are gone. What do we do?" She held an infant swaddled in a wool blanket. The baby screamed and flailed its tiny fists. "Where are we to go?"

"I don't know," Alice said. "I'm so sorry."

The woman ran away from her in search of someone who could help her. She was not even wearing a life vest. Alice headed toward the band. Her hands were numb, but they were not cold. Under her life vest she had on her jacket. She had been smart enough to wear wool stockings under her skirt. She clutched the railing and looked down, down, down to the black sea. Glassy sea as far as the eye could see, scattered with piles of ice, some as small as rowboats, others taller than buildings, glittering in the starlight like pearly towers. A dozen or so lifeboats floated away from the ship. Those scattered lifeboats were all that would keep her from the deep, black sea, miles deep.

Staring into the sky, it finally hit her that things could really end badly for her and that she may simply not be destined to see another sunrise. The knowledge clutched her chest with poker-hot fingers. She had always thought fear was cold, but it was not. Fear smoldered, and it squeezed at her chest and hollowed her stomach. The depth of the ocean was far greater than any ship and would swallow a great ship like the _Titanic_ the same as a tiny fishing boat.

Of all the ways that Alice had imagined her own death, it had never been like this. She had never thought she would die among hundreds during something so enormous and world-famous. Why, we _will_ be famous, I guess, she half laughed to herself, only I won't be there to read the headlines. Thousands of people were awaiting the arrival of the _Titanic_ in New York and by morning they would know that she, along with hundreds of others, had gone down in the unsinkable ship, swallowed by the icy waters of the northern Atlantic.

"It's all over for us, isn't it?" a man to her left asked. His eyes were dull.

"I suppose so," Alice said. She was surprised by the calm in her voice. In general she was struck by the lack of panic. Everyone immediately around her had gone still, as if pausing to grasp the enormity of what was happening. All the lifeboats were gone and there was nothing to fight for anymore.

Alice found Jock and his band. They had just finished a tune. Hartley spoke to the cellist in a cheery voice. Alice was soothed by how calm they all remained. Jock smiled when he saw her. His smile lifted her heart.

"So this is the end, dear Alice," he said. "I wish you the best. But shouldn't you be looking for a lifeboat? They're letting women and children board the boats." He gave her a haunted smile.

"The boats are all gone," Alice said. She managed a stiff attempt at a laugh.

Jock laughed with far more ease. "Would you care to play with us then?" he asked. "Us buskers ought to stick together one last time."

Alice shook her head. "I don't think I could. My fingers are too cold. And my sister has my violin."

"Save yourself in whichever manner you can then, dear Alice," Jock said. "I will go down doing what I love most. Just going to give them a tune to cheer them up a bit!"

* * *

The haunting melody of "Songe d'Automne" still carried over the placid water. Jock Hume and the rest of the band still played then, but surely not for long. The ship had listed to the point where Alice could not imagine that anyone could stand upright, much less play music. But then it could be her perception, lying on her cheek on the upside down lifeboat.

She and the others who clung to this most unstable inflatable lifeboat waited. There was nothing to do but wait. An absolute expanse of black spread out as far as she could see in all directions above and beyond her. Those of them that clung to this last, unstable lifeboat were but a tiny pinprick in a vast sea.

"I called for help," the young man who lay beside Alice whispered. His face was ghastly gray. He lay facedown on the boat, too, facing her. "Wireless. Wireless operator. I used S.O.S., that's the new thing, but nobody heard. They're coming, though. They know where we are. But I don't know if I saved him, my friend, Phillips. I think he must be lost."

Alice clung to the upside down lifeboat and stayed as still as possible. If she stayed still she would not feel the cold. Even if she survived this night, her fingers certainly would not. A little move here or there, and her fingers would feel the cold. The young wireless operator shuddered, and Alice realized that she, too, was shivering. The stars filled the sky as a multitude of jewels strung across the black sky. Black failed to describe just how dark and infinite the sky was. They passed by glittering massive towers of ice.

She had never felt such bone-numbing cold. It seeped through her wet clothing and iced her skin until she could not move. She knew that move she must. The upturned boat was unstable. Already the others on the boat were battering other swimmers away with the oars. The boat would hold no more. The haunting "Songe d'Automne" played over the screams of terror. Then with a mighty groan, the great _Titanic_ tilted upward, faster and faster toward ninety degrees, and Alice was no longer sure she could really hear the music any more or whether it echoed through her ears, haunting her. The men who had oars on the precarious lifeboat rowed as fast as they could to get away from the desperate swimmers. Oh, the dreadful groan and crack of the huge ship as it went nearly upright. Then in seconds, it plunged downward into the black depths of the sea.

"Christ, oh Christ," the wireless man said. "Those people are falling. They'll never survive it."

"She's gone," someone on the lifeboat said. "She's gone."

One moment a huge ocean liner had been there and then she was indeed gone.

"Jock," Alice wept. She did not know if his voices were among the screaming. No, not his. He would go to his death with cheerful dignity. He and his band had accepted their fate when they began to play.

A dull roar built, growing louder and louder, of shouting and crying filled the air. It was the most dreadful sound Alice had ever heard.

She had to distract herself. "What's your name?" she asked the wireless operator. "My name is Alice…" For some reason she could not remember her last name. It left her head. Hume. No, that was only in her dreams. That would never be. Not now.  
"Harold Bride," the shivering young man managed.

Alice nodded. "You worked in the wireless room?"

"Aye, but if we survive this, I'm not getting on a ship again."

"I don't think I will either."

"We should pray," a young man announced. He was shaking so hard that he could not speak. He was openly weeping, too. "We should pray for all those souls."

Alice laughed to herself. After the death of her daughter three years ago, she had stopped believing in God, but she did see the sky and sea spread out in infinite directions. She recognized the beauty of the diamonds spread across the sky, vibrating with song that only Jock could hear. Did he see it now in his dying hour, did he believe his God would save him? Would he go down still clinging to his violin?

The men on the lifeboat chanted the "Lord's Prayer" over and over and although Alice did not believe the religious aspect of it, she joined them anyway because it felt good to chant, and that was what kept them sane.

The roaring for help crescendoed and it sounded like a mighty sports field filled with dismayed fans. But above it all, Alice heard a man shouting, "Oh, God, Oh God, Oh God!" over and over. If she could move, she would have plugged her ears but even that would not have blocked it out. As long as she lived she would never be able to hear someone call out to God without thinking of that dreadful night.

_Our Lord who art in heaven_

The stars twinkled. They were so far away and cold.

_Hallowed be thy name_

The stars did not care. They offered song and light and that was all.

_Thy kingdom come_

The chanting kept everyone calm, although some of the voices trembled from the cold so that they could not say it. Harold Bride's voice was strong and Alice could see how he had survived. He was small, not much bigger than Alice, and Alice was of average size for a woman, but it was the determination in his eyes. More than that, he searched deep inside himself, trying to gather whatever strength he had left to survive. Alice decided that he would make it. She could see that others were not so lucky. Some gibbered to themselves, some slumped into a final sleep without a sound.

Alice's feet were numb. They were so numb that they felt almost warm. She knew that it was dangerous, that it meant frost bite, but she could do nothing about it now.

The "Oh God" man had gone silent, as had all the shouting. A dead silence had descended on the sea. Alice and the others on the lifeboat were all alone in the cold and the ice. They saw no other lifeboats, although occasionally she thought she saw a flickering lantern from far away.

The boat tilted far to the right, and Alice found herself sliding until she slammed into the fellows standing on the rim of the right side of the boat. The men shouted to the other side to keep their weight. Alice was in the middle and someone sat on her legs. She did not care. She did not care if she never had feeling in her legs again.

The sun would never rise. That Alice had become sure of. This would be the one day that the exception to the laws of the universe. Never mind that every day of her life that the sun had always risen. This would be the one time the sun would never rise.

There was some lightening of the sky and Alice's heart fluttered with hope.

"Sunrise," she said in a hoarse voice. Harold's eyes blinked. He looked dazed. His vision focused on the horizon. Something in his glazed eyes flickered. He managed what almost looked like a half smile. He looked as though he tried to say something, but nothing came out.

"Sun," Alice said again.

"I'm very cold," Harold said. "I'm not going to make it."

"Yes you are," she said. She barely knew what she said. "The sun's going to rise and we're going to be rescued. We're going to live. In a few hours we'll be drinking tea or brandy and be covered in blankets."

"That man is dead over there," Harold said. He looked just over Alice's right shoulder. Alice was too cold to move. "We're next."

"Maybe," Alice said. "But perhaps he didn't have the will to live. What do you have at home? Do you have children? A wife?"

"I'm engaged," Harold said. "But that's not why I want to live."

"Then you shouldn't marry her," Alice said.

Harold laughed. "Why not?"

"If she's not first in your mind right now, then you shouldn't marry her."

Harold was taken back by that. His eyes fluttered shut, but his brow was furrowed.

Then he said, "Do you want to get married? I mean, you and me."

Alice laughed, and the sound was odd and disjointed amidst the shocked silence of the other passengers.

"You're delirious," she said.

"You're beautiful," Harold said in slurred voice. He took a few breaths. "Everyone who falls asleep doesn't wake up."

"Take my hand," Alice said. "Let's vow right now that we will make it. I won't let you sleep if you won't let me."

"Did you ever think a night could last so long?" Harold asked. "Did you? I wonder if Phillips made it."

"Who's Phillips?"

"He's the other wireless operator, my boss. A hero. I never felt such love and admiration for a man."

It was hell to move, but Alice managed to shift so that her face was tilted upward toward the sky. The sky was lightening, but the stars glittered diamond bright. They watched a falling star together.

She and Harold lay head to head.

"They say that when a star falls, that someone has just died."

"I've seen a large amount of falling stars tonight," Harold said. "Stars coming to earth to fetch souls to heaven, that's what I heard."

"I like that," Alice said with a smile.

Together they watched this strange and translucent landscape with their glittering masses of peaked bluish-white mountains glowing under the starlight start to turn pink with the rising sun.

"I can't feel my feet," Harold said. "They hurt bad before, but I can't feel them now. Do you hear the stars sing?"

Alice laughed a little. "That's what Jock Hume, one of the musicians, used to say. He and I, we were good friends. I play the violin, too, and he let me practice with them sometimes. Or did he like to play for the stars? I can't remember now."

"I am quite serious, I assure you. If you are absolutely quiet you can hear them."

"It is too cold for this nonsense, really."

"She's a nice lass, my fiancée is, but…" Harold looked sad then. "She doesn't know how to laugh and just enjoy some cheer."

"She must be very serious," Alice said, and giggled. "She would think star song a bit of nonsense, would she?" She laughed again. That evoked a smile from Harold.

"Aye, that's the way of it." Harold snuggled a little closer. Alice turned to look at him, and he went on, "I don't know how I'll get out of it, honestly. Plans have already been made. In fact my mother, she didn't want me to go on this run. She was scared for me."

"Scared?"

"Believe it or not, she had some kind of dream that disturbed her so deeply that she wouldn't tell me what it was. Silly, really, but I guess not so much."

Alice found herself blushing and wondering if Harold might kiss her on this boat that floated through the land of the dead.

"I think that my husband might have been a homosexual," Alice blurted.

"Pardon me?" Harold said. "You were married?"

Alice smiled at him. He wasn't seriously mocking her. He was actually listening and caring what she said.

"I sometimes think my Mary was a miracle. She really wanted to be born." Alice's throat clutched as it would always do for her whole lifetime when she thought about her daughter Mary. Mary would have loved to learn about star song. She would have loved to have sailed at sea.

"So your husband was a homosexual," Harold said. "Did he die on the ship? Just now?"

"No. He died three years ago, from the same sickness that took Mary. I wasn't sorry when he died. He was a self-absorbed, pompous ass who thought the sun and moon and all the stars and planets rotated around him."

Harold was silent.

"Am I boring you?" Alice asked.

"Not at all," Harold said. He leaned in then and kissed her. She had never been kissed like that. No, Martin's dry, chaste pecks could never compare to this moist, lingering kiss that went on and on.

* * *

"Hoy!" a young man from their lifeboat yelled suddenly. Alice's eyes snapped open. She had fallen asleep. "There's another rescue boat coming!"

The boat trembled and shifted under Alice and she dared not move for fear they would all get dumped overboard.

"Hold on, hold on!" Harold cried out with sudden life. He held Alice in place, keeping her from slipping into the icy ocean.

"Hoy!" someone called from the other boat. "We can take you on our boat!"

Only then did Alice notice that the sun had begun to rise, that the horizon had truly turned pink.

Alice did not remember much, but she was lifted into the boat by strong arms. She didn't think she could possibly move herself so she was grateful for whoever did it.

Harold was cried out in pain at this point. His feet had been mercifully numb before, but now they seemed to erupt in horrific pain. Alice's own feet pained her, but it was her hands that worried her. If she lost the use of her fingers, then she would never play her violin again.

She saw a lady in the new rescue boat with blood on her shoulders and a scarf over her head. She looked anguished, but by the material of her gown, she was one of the well off ladies.

"Bless you, dear girl," she said to me. "You are frozen to solid ice."

Alice no longer knew anything, but she had the odd sensation of hearing her own voice babbling on and on, something about star song and Jock and autumn dreams and a shared kiss with Harold Bride. Sometimes she heard other voices saying soothing things like, "There, there, that's a brave girl."

Then a huge wall appeared before them, and she thought it might be her mind playing terrible tricks. A blanket was around her and she could not stop shaking, she was shaking like those stars that trembled and fell from the sky all night. The sun was bright now, the sun had really risen, and she could see that it was no longer a trick of the mind or heart.

Then there were joyous cries and she was lifted high to the sky, and she thought, well, this is it. We've gone to join the falling stars! She had no idea that falling stars sang so beautifully.

 

* * *

 

The stewards walked around the shocked, milling crowd, trying to get information about what had happened. When they came to Alice, she gave whatever information she could. A stewardess in a pressed long skirt offered her tea. Alice nodded, and the stewardess smiled and said, "I'm Alice, too." She tapped her fingernail on her name tag that said as such. Alice nodded, but she feared to move. If she dared move, this great ship, _Carapathia_, might sink, too. She had slipped out of her fate of a watery death in the middle of the Atlantic, but she was still on the sea. If it was her fate to disappear deep into the depths of the icy Atlantic, this was the time. She wondered how a day could last so long and yet be over in the blink of an eye.

Time spurted forward and dragged in strange increments. She heard voices crying, "Have you seen a Mr. O'Malley? He's got a brown beard and blue eyes. Have you seen him?"

A woman settled on the deck chair next to Alice.

"I can't believe that happened. I can't believe. We went to bed and then…" her voice broke off. "How can you go to bed and then your life is just…shattered?"

Alice shook her head. She couldn't say anything. Everything that had happened was too big to break into intelligible language.

"My arms are sore. We rowed for hours. Did you know that I rowed with Mrs. Jack Thayer? Do you know her?"

Alice shook her head. The sun was brilliant. The few scattered clouds from that morning had become mere wisps.

"Do you know, I'm going to divorce my husband?" The woman went on, clutching the blanket around her. "Yes, as soon as we reach land."

Alice now glanced at her with interest.

The woman went on, encouraged by Alice's interest. "Do you know what he said to me just now? No, I don't suppose you do. He said, and I quote exactly, _I just had a jolly good breakfast. I didn't think you made it._" The woman's face looked wan, too haunted to be bitter yet, and her lips trembled.

"Did you lose anyone?" The woman gestured weakly toward the sea.

Alice thought about Jock's noble and sad farewell smile and his vow to go down doing what he loved. She nodded and clutched the woman's hand, and the woman gave her a grateful smile and was finally silent.

When darkness fell, as it inevitably did, Alice could not go to sleep. She could not rid her ears of the roar of over a thousand souls crying for help that would never come. She tried to lie down in the berth that a lady traveler of the _Carapathia_ had gladly given up. She would never go to sleep again. Look what had happened to all those people the last time the sun had set. But sleep she did, albeit fitfully.

Tuesday was stranger. She felt detached in a way that she did not understand. There was a thick fog that had settled over everything. The sea had become much more restless, and rumbles of thunder punctuated the steady fall of rain.

* * *

Autumn dreams. _Songe d'Automne_. The leaves twirl on the ground and thankfully nobody plays that song anymore. It never was as popular in the United States as it was in England. To hear it even once would turn Alice cold inside and out. No matter how many years have passed, that song haunts her from the deepest part of her dreams.

Poor dear Jock Hume found near Newfoundland with only his purple earmuffs and a pearl-edged knife, among his few possessions. Poor Jock Hume buried far from home. Nobody would remember just how his smile would light up a room when he walked in it.

Yes, Alice had survived that gruesome night of which she would always associate with the jeweled stars and the star song and Harold Bride's face close to hers.

Alice was old now, and her days were limited. She taught music to children at the Conservatory of Arts and she has never allowed "Songe d'Automne" to be played. She considered it bad luck. Only a few survivors of the _Titanic_ still live. Some had died of natural causes while others had done away with themselves. Survivor's guilt.

Alice never saw Harold Bride again after that night. He went on back to England to marry his fiancée. Alice went on to stay with her sister Josephine. By choice, She never married again.

* * *

 

Alice's right fingers rested pale and stiff on the violin bow. Right after the sinking, she had been told she was lucky to still have them. She knew she had been even luckier that it was her right hand and not her left. Her useless right fingers could still be used to guide the bow; it was her left fingers that danced.

She twisted the string pegs, tuning and adjusting for tune. She had lost some hearing in recent years but she would never forget a perfect a pitch for tuning. Years of playing with a cheap, tinny violin, fiddling with a small Irish band in small saloon mostly drowned out by the far louder bagpipes and drums had affected her ears.

Magic, Jock Hume had called the somber tone of her violin, with his dazzling smile, his eyes bluer with their enchantment of the music. If only the star song could have been magic for him, if only it could have made him float upon the waves, warm and safe until help arrived.

On this day, sixty years to the date after the sinking, Alice would play for Jock again, as a tribute to the band who kept playing until the end.

Back in the first days after the rescue, when celebration of life and homage to the dead was the order of the day, Alice would have no idea of the power of that one blackest night. Somehow, through the coming weeks, through a sludge of sunrises and sunsets, her center managed to hold. To the outside world she was serene. A brave survivor who had given up her seat on a lifeboat and endured when all seemed lost. But the rest of her, all the pieces that had made up her whole self, had floated disembodied in the air, waiting for a signal to come together in a new form.

Alice had been good at pretending. Pretending that she was getting along, pretending that being saved was a precious gift not to be squandered. The worst was meeting acquaintances and even strangers who had eyes bright with hungry curiosity.

"Oh, you were on the _Titanic_, were you? How fascinating!" All the while, they had no idea that their words stabbed her chest like the thousands of icy knives of the Atlantic. These curiosity seekers would lean forward, waiting for more so that they could tell their friends that they heard firsthand survivor stories from a real survivor of the _Titanic._ Sometimes she told her story, but usually she changed the subject.

But it was the night that remained the worst time. The dark, looming shadow smothered with menacing strength. It was hard for anyone to accept that the worst, random horrors can happen in the most vulnerable middle of the night. Talismans could not protect you. Religion certainly could not. There would be a part of Alice that would never again sleep through a night.

Nightmares haunted Alice for years afterward, and in them, she was always at the stern of the boat as it tilted, watching all the lifeboats sailing away. The cold, awful knot in her stomach told her that it was all over for her and for over a thousand others. Sometimes in the dreams she was lying on her precarious perch on the collapsible raft under the spread of all those glorious stars. Harold Bride and all the others were crusted with frost, dead, and no rescue was coming and the sun would never rise again.

Alice played for a small, somber audience. Most were curiosity seekers or descendants of victims. She played the usual hymns and popular tunes of the time, including "Glow Worm", "Oh, You Beautiful Doll" and "Silver Heels." She shut her mind from the strains of the band's version of "Songe d'Automne", coming from the roaring listing boat as she clung for her life to the collapsible lifeboat.

When she finished, she said, "I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Jock Hume, one of the violinists in the band. One of the last things he said to me was, 'just going to give them a tune to cheer things up a bit.'" Alice's throat pulled with a grief that she did not think possible sixty years later.

"So," she continued after pulling herself together, "I would like to play one of the last things I remember violinist Jock Hume playing. Even at the end, he kept a jolly smile on his face. Alexander's Ragtime Band."

The tune was cheerful, nearly irreverent to the moment. The crowd rustled uncomfortably. There was a sense of confusion, whether it was okay to smile and laugh a bit. Jock would have liked that. Just a tune to cheer things up a bit.

 

END


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